How's it Happening?
by Rinon Toros
Summary: Thomas/Fiona. pt1 of 2 - on Fiona and Ban's wedding day, Thomas feels a bit..


Title: How's It Happening?

Rating: PG.

Pairing: Thomas/Fiona - sort of.

Notes: Yeah, I know.. the song itself is supposed to be sang at a female's point of view. But this seemed.. right. Due to this, I've altered one part of the song – instead of 'he,' I've switched it to 'she,' in the twenty second line.

Angst ( what? You expected something else? Yeah, _right_. ). Ban and Fiona are getting married and Thomas is anything but happy on their special day.

See: I know nothing about weddings, despite having been to many. So, if I'm a bit off on some aspects, pardon. And, also, the lack of, ah, 'quality' in the end can be caused by the fact that I sat and stared off into space for about a half an hour wondering whether Karl was a Chaotic Century/Guardian Force character or a Shinseiki /0 character. Don't ask; I need sleep.

Lyrics are by the highly talented Frou Frou. The song is 'It's Good To Be In Love.'

And, also, this will have a second part. It's coming very soon.

-           -            -            -

i don't know where to start.

say i'm tired or throw a party?

these cucumber eyes are lying the more that i smile about it,

& all of my clothes feel like somebody's old throwaways.

i don't like it.

-           -            -            -

It was just a brilliant array of colors; fenced within a multitude of poles, the tops laced with a thick, pink ribbon.

  
White, placed intricately upon a tender, blue sky, sending out warmth, heightening the percentage of joy within that specific day. Laced in, patched with spots of smiling, happy faces. Crying eyes. Congratulations and cheers of utter bliss. Centered amidst a violently green field, of course, little nothings of both white and a subtle, 'baby' pink in hue, placed randomly about the area. Tables and chairs; foldable floors and dance areas.

Drinks and food alike were spread out everywhere and, in one specific place, the lovable, metallic Organoid was dipping his beak into a bowl of some sort of translucent, pink tinted alcohol and noisily attempting to drink it up. Though, of course, failing miserably and doing little more than making a mess – and causing a small group of bystanders to erupt into near hysteric laughter.

Far off, to the north of the area, had been a 'special' place. For the most part, untouched, if one could exclude the large, 'T' shaped intend within the hip-high grass of that specific area. At the crossroads of this large 'T' lay an altar, even an uprising bundle of three steps, made specifically for the occasion. Two people sat in the vicinity of that area, talking quietly amongst each other. Both wore smiles.

He had arrived late, with his elder brother. Karl had murmured something to him about keeping his emotions 'in check' before stepping quietly from the car the two had came in. He had watched Karl walk calmly toward the duo who stood at one of the many openings in the fencing ribbon. He had smiled, though his eyes remained tragically dull; after a moment of exchange, involving both words and a large package he held, he gently embraced the petite, blonde female, and shook hands with the lanky, brunette male.

The brunette male made a comment, most likely pertaining to he who hadn't yet left the car, and Karl motioned a hand back in the direction from where he came. The brunette nodded and kept on smiling.

  
However, the smile upon the petite blonde's smile flickered, though only for a brief moment.

  
Sighing, the man who waited in the car gathered up his own package within his arms. Two of them – a thin, shallow box for the female, and a large, deep box for the male. Upon that, he gathered a bouquet of roses – perhaps out of instinct, rather than any other reason – piling it atop his presents. And, with a tiny struggle, he stepped from the car.

Pressing the boxes to his chest, he smoothed out his suit, a thing he felt rather clumsy in, before proceeding around the car. Sighing gently, he continued forward.

"Ooh, lookin' slick, Thomas." The brunette mocked playfully, as he noted the man lathered with presents bumbling forward, around a large, sudden burst of people. When close enough, the brunette snagged the boxes from Thomas, leaving the flowers behind. He shook the big box, with a large, 'BAN' post-it noted on the top, beside his ear, grinning childishly as he listened to the twinkling. "What's thiiiis?"

"It's fragile, Ban." A hint of morose was in his voice; he turned to the petite blonde and smiled, extending both hands outward, the roses cradled within either palm. "Congratulations, Fiona."

The blonde smiled and leaned forward to accept the flowers. Palming them within one hand, she stepped off of her and Ban's shared pedestal and hugged him lightly, placing a kiss upon his cheek. "Thank you."

  
"You, too, Ban." Thomas commented quietly, as he gingerly returned the hug, suppressing any actions that would make him want to kick himself in the head later. He drew back and she stepped back up; he nodded lightly at Ban. "Lucky."

"We've set you up with a first row seat." Ban had set the box down and smiled warmly. "Right side; the first seat in the isle. Karl's gonna be right next to you, with Rudolph and Maryanne after."

"Alright."

"'Till then, go ahead and eat! And keep off the high grass!" Ban motioned, as though to shoo Thomas off, toward the 'entrance.' And, as an after thought, he added tentatively,  "And could you, um, possibly keep an eye on Zeek for me?"

"He's drinking the wine." Fiona commented quietly, biting down upon her bottom lip as she grinned. She looked away.

Thomas grinned. "Yes, I suppose."

With a final hug and a shake of the hands, he proceeded in. And his heart grew heavy, his throat constricted and he felt his hands began to tremble. Shaking his head lightly, he swiftly took a seat beside the messy, though now dry, Organoid, who immediately stopped to pillow itself drunkenly against his side, chortling merrily.

_It's not fair._

-           -            -            -

it's good to be in love;

it really does suit you,

just like everything.

i'm happy you're in love,

'cause every colour goes where you do.

-           -            -            -

There was a brief time when everyone grew silent.

Ban had stood atop another pedestal, Fiona on the ground not very far away, and made a short announcement. With a laugh, he had told them they had only another hour of merriment, before the real 'party' was to start – and then a brief addition of 'Emperor Rudolph will be late!' The crowd cheered, Irvine made a smart-assed comment on how _suspiciously_ long they were taking, and Thomas sulked, sitting backwards upon the smooth, white bench, his arms dangling over bent-knees. He probably would have been palming his head, if it weren't for the fact that it would have attracted attention.

Or, at least, he attempted to. Zeek, still in a bout of unusual drunkenness, continually nudged at him. Jumped from the bench, to the tabletop, until it threatened to snap in half. Danced awkwardly on the ground before Thomas, waving his small arms in the air, before, rather abruptly, falling into a soundless sleep at his feet.

Thomas kneaded gently at the bridge of his nose when that had happened. He turned, slinging his legs over the bench, beneath the tabletop. He folded his hands within his lap and stared at the items laid out upon the table.

Nothing in particular. At least, nothing that could be salvaged, after the Organoid coated it all in a thin sheen of wine. Beneath the wreckage hid an assortment of food, from typical Japanese edibles, to cakes and candies of all assortments, bite-sized.

_How trivial. Set to babysitting the child-like Organoid – at **her** wedding._

He pursed his lips, swallowing roughly, before looking around the area behind him. Small bundles of people were gathered everywhere, making him feel quite out of place, on his own. Karl had joined into some conversation between Herman and some average, red-haired military woman. Irvine and Moonbay were at their own table, squabbling over something loudly. President Camford and General Krueger were talking, as well. People whom he couldn't identify, though supposed were inhabitants of the Wind Colony, were _everywhere_ in sight and, aside from that, he could have swore at least half of both the Helic and Guylos military were there. Stiff-backed, starched collared men and women both were chatting amongst themselves, looking more out of place than Thomas himself. He would have laughed, if the concept of him being so alone hadn't been so depressing. 

There was no reason why he _should_ have been alone. There were, definitely, lots of areas for him to dive into, to freely socialize, but.. When he had found himself to his feet, he surely wasn't going into the direction of any of the people he knew. Instead the opposite, toward a duo of tents.

-           -            -            -

i'm adoring you, 

it's all good.

you're so beautiful. 

i'm black & blue all over.

-           -            -            -

"Wow.."

"Thomas!" Fiona gave an audible gasp and twisted about to face the speaker. She had lifted a hand to her chest, balling it up in fright – the group of females had been chatting amongst themselves, doubting anyone would bother to visit. They hadn't expected _anyone_ to come!

"Sorry," He smiled sheepishly, turning his back on the inside of the tent. "I shouldn't be looking, should I?"

  
"N-No, you surprised me.."

"Nosey-nosey!" Moonbay commented beneath her own gloved hand and, without further ado, she lifted up her skirts and proceeded toward the door. Fiona stared in confusion and Moonbay only turned to motion to the other bridesmaids, and wave to Fiona. "We need to check up on somethin'. Be right back!"

The two other women piled out, behind Moonbay. Thomas watched them go, his eyebrows raised. Fiona pouted to herself.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"Why would you think that?"

  
His smile was vague, as though he had been off in some sort of daydream instead of there, that very day, as he gestured to her in general. "It's not right to admire you like this."

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not happy." Her brows drew together and she began to frown, folding both hands within her lap lightly.

"N-No! I am happy!"

  
"Then, what's wrong, Thomas?"

"Nothing, really!"

She stared at him, before sighing and turning her back upon him. She toyed lightly with the small cube of sugar, placed upon an equally small plate, rolling it from side to side. Worrying, on her wedding day. It was understandable, though about a _friend_? She had hoped everyone would be happy and that the only thing she would need to whine or worry over would be, hopefully, having the wrong-sized shoes!

She scooped the sugar cube up into one hand and reached for a thin, thin pouch, dropping the cube within it. Tugging the strings closed, she tied the duo of small ropes around the top, before tucking it into the top of her glove.

"I-I'm sorry." He whispered as he watched, eyes surprisingly growing damp. His insides felt like they were being torn apart; shredded in the maw of some animal – Ban's liger, maybe.

"Mm..?"

  
"I'm sorry." He shook his head. "I shouldn't stop you, if – if you want to leave, you should have every right to do so!"

  
"What?" She sounded amused at his talk and soon turned to face him once more. He clenched his hands at his sides and readied to leave. Though she soon stopped that, standing up, moving forward and pulling him into a light hug.

He immediately broke out into a dry sob.

-           -            -            -

you're breaking my flow.

how could you know what i'm saying about it?

when all of my clothes feel like somebody's old throwaways?

i don't like it.

it's good to be in love;

it really does suit you.

just like everything.

-           -            -            -

"It's okay." She murmured and patted lightly at the top of his head. "I'm not leaving _anyone_, Thomas."

"You don't understand." He shook his head lightly and, once more, felt the urge to kick himself. _Once more, Thomas, you've opened your mouth and inserted your foot.._

  
"I do!" She gave another smile; it made his knees weak and he felt the urge to topple over and blow off into the wind. "I'm not _that_ naïve, Thomas."

Maybe babbling mindlessly was a _good_ idea – once in a while. Though, that was when everything hit him, in one, violent blow to the mind, a wave of nausea coming along with it. She knew he loved her, didn't she? Even while accepting Ban's hand in marriage, she knew. And acknowledged the fact. And said 'yes,' anyway..

So – so it didn't matter to her.

And him acting like this was as pointless as – nearly everything else he had subjected himself two, in the past four years of knowing her.

"Zi," He retracted, drawing his arms away and tightly weaving his fingers together. His knuckles grew white. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this to you on your w-wedding day."

  
"Oh, stop saying that." She shook her head, her hands waving dismissively at the topic, as well. He never failed to confuse her. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Thomas."

"Ah – um, yeah."

  
But _sometimes_! Sometimes, the way she looked at him! Her – sincerity toward him! How he had found her, when he had came back from their last fight with Hiltz – _how_? It seemed wrong, somehow. Irregular. Amiss, in all the terribly wrong ways.

Still, he forced a bowed his head lightly in respect. She drew back toward her seat and slowly lowered herself back into it, her back turned toward her mirror now, still facing him in confused solicitude.

"I'll leave you be. You have to get ready."

  
"Alright. Please, go take a seat, Thomas. I'll speak with you after the wedding." She said as she nodded, giving a light wave of the hand. He stared, almost indifferent at her words – anything but affected. Somehow, it didn't seem 'true.'

"A-Alright. Goodbye."

-           -            -            -

i'm happy you're in love,

'cause every colour goes where you do.

i feel so powerless i-i've got to stop it somehow!

oh come on what can i do?

-           -            -            -

"Rudolph is here."

"Agh – Maryanne, too!"

"Don't 'agh' me, Irvy! Where are your manners?!"

"In the garbage." Moonbay murmured lightly and spouted a wry grin when Irvine flushed in anger. Maryanne beamed happily, though only after giving Irvine a dirty, 'You better change your act, Mister!' look.

"Shuddup. You're one to talk, you know!" Irvine snapped in annoyance and turned his gaze away.

"General Schwarz," Rudolph greeted cheerfully with a wave of the hand. Karl saluted, as Rudolph peered about the area curiously. "Where is your brother?"

"I – Oh, _damnit_.."

"Don't swear! It's bad!" Maryanne pointed and stared scornfully at Karl, who dismissed her as though she were little more than a blade of grass beneath his foot.

  
Karl had shaded his eyes with one of his hands, as he looked in the direction, where he had parked. When he noticed the lack of automobile, he grimaced. "Shit – our car's gone."

"Waaahh!" Maryanne began again, eyes wide and her hands clasped over her ears in an 'I-can't-hear-you!' fashion. 

  
"So?" Rudolph tugged lightly at the wailing girl, nudging her behind her. She was cute, yes, but _loud_. Obnoxious!

  
"Thomas left."

"Huh..? The ceremony's just about to start. Where the hell'd he go?" Irvine stared, before wildly glancing about the area. No goofy blond to be seen.

  
"Doesn't _anyone_ listen to me?!" Maryanne whined from Rudolph's side; he was still trying to futilely push her behind him – maybe seeing the inner décor of the wedding would have distracted her. And, to their luck, she did, immediately squealing, waving her arms, and bounding off as she noticed not the décor, but a bickering couple. Super-Couple-Woman to the rescue.

"Good luck finding him." Karl muttered and folded his arms over his chest, drumming his fingertips along the curve of his bicep.

"Huh..?"

-           -            -            -

why's it happening?

how's it happening without me?

how's it happening that she feels it without me?

it's good to be in love..

-           -            -            -

"Reporting, sir." His voice was a bit raspier than he had wanted, but nevertheless. He reported with a stiff salute, staring blandly into the large screen of the vid-phone. Beyond the screen sat an old, extravagantly clad commander, who smiled upon seeing him.

  
"Ah, Thomas. You returned my call."

"Yessir."

  
"We've got an expedition going on. I was wondering if you would, possibly, like to join in on it?"

  
"If I may ask, where is it to, sir?"

"The Eastern Continent. We're looking to possibly cultivate it and – well, being as that you have such high technological skills, we assumed you would be one, if not the, best dealing with the job."

"Mmm." He would have dropped the salute, if it weren't for a matter of pride. Instead, an achingly realistic image of Fiona formed within his mind, smiling and waving to him. He shook his head.

The commander's brow rose and he rubbed lightly at the edge of his nose, his stare insistent and demanding, in spite of his smile "Well?"

  
"When do we ship off, sir?" It was amusing, to see the imagery appear again. It was her, working within the Ultrasaurus. Determined as ever, though she had at least paused to acknowledge him, even if it was brief. She was probably terribly hurt at him not staying at the wedding. And she would be even more hurt, at the concept of leaving, perhaps. But..

  
"Tomorrow morning, at bright 'n early 4 am. I take it I'll see you there?"

"Indeed. Thank you, sir."

"Um, you're welcome."

Who cares? It was just a person. Just emotions. Just pain being washed away easily, softly. There would be no scars, no second thoughts. That was it. It was over and done with. And, never again would it happen. Never.


End file.
